


It Suits You (You Suit Me)

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Fluff, Haircuts, M/M, Realization, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5909233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s just throwing him off. Confusion is what’s making his breath catch in his throat every time he sees Link out of the corner of his eye, sees the unfamiliar silhouette that is the delicate curve of his ear, on display for the first time in longer than Rhett can remember.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Suits You (You Suit Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I haven't been in this fandom very long, but Link's haircut still gave me Feelings and I needed to talk about them.

It’s nothing Rhett hasn’t seen before. 30 years of being friends, he’s seen Link wear his hair just about every way imaginable, shorn nearly to the scalp all the way down to shaggy layers nearly touching his shoulders, and every length in-between. He’s just—he’s gotten used to the wings and the swoop, is all, and he’s not good with change.

It’s just throwing him off. Confusion is what’s making his breath catch in his throat every time he sees Link out of the corner of his eye, sees the unfamiliar silhouette that is the delicate curve of his ear, on display for the first time in longer than Rhett can remember.

It’s just a shock. That’s why his eyes linger a little longer on the face he knows as well as his own—better, really, for all he’s looked at it over the years. Link’s eyes are the same, bright and blue behind those thick frames, and his smile hasn’t changed, wry and lopsided unless Rhett can coax a real laugh out of him, mouth going wide and open, pushing up at the apples of his cheeks. It’s all the same, except there’s _more_ of it now, the plane of Link’s forehead no longer obscured, making his face look somehow— _brighter_.

Surprise, that’s all. He’s just surprised, and that’s what makes his fingers itch when Link runs a hand through his hair, what makes his stomach knot when Link turns to face him and asks if Rhett really thinks it looks good.

“‘Course I do, man, I wasn’t lyin’ the last fifteen times I said it,” Rhett grumbles, staring at the surface of the desk, scratching his nails against the grain of the wood.

“Sorry,” Link says, quietly, and Rhett feels hot shame wash over him. He looks up from where he’s fidgeting, catches Link’s gaze, forces himself not to look away.

“Nah, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—you look good, Link.” Rhett swallows. “You look real good. I’ll tell you that as much as you need.”

Link smiles. “Gonna hold you to that.”

When Rhett huffs out a laugh, Link laughs with him, tossing his head back, that high sweet giggle Rhett knows so well. The movement shakes his hair loose from where he’s pushed it back, a stray lock falling against his forehead, and Rhett’s reaching out a hand before he even knows what he’s doing.

Link’s laugh trails off as Rhett smooths his hair back, fingers slipping through the newly-shorn strands, shorter now but every bit as soft as Rhett remembers it being. The first touch puts everything back in order, camera-ready, but Rhett’s hand lingers, his thumb tracing an aimless path along Link’s hairline. He realizes he’s holding his breath, lets it out in a long, shaky exhale, but the tightness in his chest remains.

“Rhett—”

Rhett pulls his hand away abruptly, clearing his throat with exaggerated force. “Just didn’t want you to look a mess before we start taping,” he says, looking around the studio like it’s fascinating and brand-new instead of the same set they’ve had for years now, his fingers tapping out a frenzied tempo against the desk.

Link’s palm, warm and heavy, quickly covers his frantic fingers, forcing him to stop.

“Always lookin’ out for me,” Link murmurs, and Rhett sneaks a glance sideways. Link’s smiling, the kind of smile the cameras almost never see; it’s the smile he gets when he’s talking about his family, a smile that’s small and soft, a smile that makes his eyes sparkle.

“Well,” Rhett answers, “somebody’s got to.” It comes out all wrong, earnest instead of teasing, and he wants to leave, go get a drink of water or something because he’s burning up, but Link won’t let go. Instead, he turns Rhett’s hand over on the desk, palm-up, then covers it again with his own, interlacing their fingers.

Rhett’s mouth goes dry. He waits for the panic, the pull-away, the punchline, but it doesn’t come, and when he musters the courage to turn his head, Link’s looking at him with that same sweet smile on his face, crow’s feet crinkling around eyes so fond Rhett’s filled with warmth all the way down to his toes.

“Glad it’s you, man,” Link says, finally, and squeezes Rhett’s hand. He doesn’t let go.

This time, Rhett doesn’t try to get away.


End file.
